


Share Your Thoughts

by Vodka112



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Age Difference, M/M, NoCapesAU, past Bruce/Talia, slight Joyfire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-08 22:37:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8866180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vodka112/pseuds/Vodka112
Summary: Jason meets Damian when they were kids and they form a mental bond. NoCapesAU.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Skalidra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skalidra/gifts).



> This is your gift for the exchange. I wish I had more time to polish it but alas. Sorry for the extended fake Greek epic, I couldn't help myself. I hope you enjoy~<3
> 
> Age Reference: Damian 14, Tim 17, Jason 21, Dick 31, Bruce 38.  
> Prompt can be found here: http://firefrightfic.tumblr.com/post/152548657596/jupiterjames-i-love-reading-fics-about-otps

He was so _small_. The kid walked over to where Jason was stunned into standing up when he walked in the room. He came up a little higher than Jason’s hips.

Jason couldn’t breathe. His mum had told him how she met his Da. His heart beat hard in his chest now, loud in his ears. There was a _zing_ in his fingertips, like static crackling over his skin.

But he was _fourteen_! He was supposed to _zing_ a nice young girl when he’s twenty one and settle down in an apartment with two and a half dogs. Not this… _baby_.

God, the kid was _too young_.

His eyes were a piercing green set on a round face as he stared at Jason. He looked a lot like Miss Talia. Bruce managed to talk her over to setting up a meeting with him. They were in the next room, armed with their lawyers, trying to settle an international custody battle between two of the biggest corporations in the world. Bruce had asked for Jason to be allowed to spend some time with his _new_ brother. There were about five hired muscles outside, just in case Jason tries to kidnap the heir al Ghul or something.

 _Bruce is going to kill me for this_ , Jason thought. The kid narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Jason. Then he turned away, looking disinterested. Before Jason could take a fortifying breath, the kid turned around, quick as a fox, and lunged at him.

The world burst into colors at once. It was like… Jason had no trouble seeing, hearing and _feeling_ before but now—it was like every sense was heightened. The boy’s hair was soft under his hand. The water dispenser’s bubbling water was fascinatingly loud. The colors of the painting in front of the couch were vibrant, glossy and shiny in turns.

It was frightening and exhilarating at the same time. Jason could feel his lips stretch in a smile so wide it hurt keeping it on his face.

“You look demented. Stop,” the boy piped up. Jason giggled.

“I said stop!” the boy said, battering Jay with his tiny fists. Oh, _no_. That was _so_ not on.

“Ow! Okay, I’ll stop smiling but you better stop hitting me. I’m sure your mother taught you better manners than that,” Jason said. The boy glared at Jason but he stopped his attack.

“My name is Damian. What is yours?” he asked in a voice with that same snappish quality Talia has. _Oh God_ , Talia was going to _kill him_.

“The name’s Jason. You can call me Jay,” Jason answered.

“Jay,” Damian said.

“Yes, Damian?” Jason asked, saying the boy’s name as if to check how it feels against his tongue.

“It is taken from the Latin Alphabet,” Damian said and Jason thought he was asking a question but his tone said otherwise. Damian frowned and his nose twitched. “My name is Damian and you may not call me by any other name or letter of the Latin alphabet.”

Jason blinked at him. “Sure, little dude. I wasn’t gonna—”

Damian sniffed again. He turned his nose up in the air as if he was trying to look down on Jason. “Damian.”

“ _Damian_ ,” Jason corrected himself, “I’m not gonna call you weird sh— _ah shtuff_.”

“It is pronounced _stuff_ ,” the kid corrected him again. He let go of Jason’s waist to drag him by the wrist. “That is not of import! The Greek army is losing and I need an Odysseus to save them.”

“Wait, what?” Jason asked, confused and a little bit impressed. Damian’s baby sitter must be an Ancient Greek fanatic.

“Do not drag your feet. It is unbecoming. I shall explain more _later_ ,” Damian answered, focused on finishing his play.

Jason let Damian drag him to the room he came out of. He actually wanted to play now, too. He can’t wait to stick the red soldiers inside his favorite toy car.

 _Wait_.

Jason felt chills run up and down his spine when he came into the room. It was yellow all around and the carpet was made of jigsaw mats Jay has seen from the mall. In the middle of it all was a meter high, elaborate Barbie castle surrounded by red tin soldiers arranged in groups of fifteen, with three lines and five soldiers in a line.

Jason picked one up and Damian squawked in indignation. He loved the neat ranks.

“I’ll put it back with its battalion. I promise,” Jason said.

Neglected on the side was a baby replica of Bruce’s red Ferrari. Damian sat in it immediately and drove it up to the castle. It must be electronically powered. There were two guards in the room. Harun was guarding the door and Moukib was stationed by the window. They were the Gods of Olympus, Poseidon and Zeus, and they had blessed the armies quite satisfactorily. Their job was to watch the war and the victory of the Greeks to come to fruition.

“ _It is night time_ —,” Damian started.

Jason continued, “— _The Greeks and Trojans are in truce till sun up, as was custom.”_

They spoke alternately and Jason didn’t know where all these words came from, but they flowed out of his mouth faster than he could think.

_“Hector’s pyre was lit by his family,_

_And Achilles’ ashes thrown in with Patrocles’._

_Odysseus sat by the fire with his fellow Greeks._

_He missed his wife greatly, his son even more so._

_He left him when he was a boy, not four summers old._

_He would face his challenge in a few winters._

_His Ithacan ancestry showed through,_

_His skilled hands whittling away at drift wood._

_The wood began to take shape within moments._

_A mighty steed for his mighty son._

_A devious thought takes root in his mind_

_And he goes to see Menelaus…”_

 

***

 

Talia carried their screaming child away as Bruce held Jason’s shoulder. The boy was shivering, his eyes wide with fear and confusion. He looked a hair’s breadth away from a panic attack.

“Bruce, I—” Jason stammered and Bruce held up a hand, stopping the apology fighting its way out.

“It’s alright, son. Breathe,” he said and Jay took in a stuttering breath.

“He’s—I didn’t know, I swear,” Jason reasoned and Bruce believed him.

“I know. We’ll figure this out, Jason. It’ll work out," Bruce said as he tried to comfort the kid.

“He’s my mate, Bruce,” Jason said and his voice was full of wonder. Bruce had a hard time looking at his face. Then he piped up with, “You’re not losing custody over this, are ya?”

“Talia will want to change the terms of our agreement,” Bruce said. Jason put his head in his hands.

“I messed it up,” he mumbled and Bruce touched his cheek with his hand, made him look up. There were tears already leaking from his eyes. He put his hands on Jay’s shoulders, leaning down to look into his eyes.

“You didn’t mess anything up, Jay. This is—” Bruce started but he had to change tracks when Jason looked like he’ll start crying again. “Finding your soul mate is one of the greatest miracles of life. We cherish it. We’re going to celebrate it.”

“We we’re supposed to bring Damian home today,” Jason complained but he was already wiping the tears off his face.

“One day, son. One day, we’ll bring him home with us. It won’t be long now,” Bruce affirmed.

“It was— it was electric. I can hear his thoughts, I think,” Jason said. He held his hand on his chest. “It hurts when I can’t.”

Bruce hoped it wasn’t any serious physical ailment. Then he reached for his phone. He needed to call Alfred to prepare something soothing for Jay. He needed Lesley to come up the manor and run a check up on his kid.

He looked down at where he’s petting Jason's hair. He decided to call Harvey over as well. He would open a bottle or two of his best wine and have a drink in the garden, provided Lesley gave Jay a clean bill of health. There were a couple of legal loopholes he needed to jump for Jason and Damian. Harvey wasn't going to like this.

 

***

 

Talia only allowed Damian to visit his father once a year. He recalled these visits with the haze of youth, more fragments of color than any real accumulation of fact. That was until he turned _fourteen_ and he started to _want_.

He’d always wanted his soul mate. It showed more obviously in some ways than others. Possessively, almost to the point of obsession. He never wanted anyone else to cater to him, unless they were his father or his mate. He shamefully remembered biting someone Jason was with when he was _ten_. The wound needed stitches, and he’d been sent back to the al Ghul main palace three days before his expected return. Mother and Grandfather had both sighed at him before sending him off to more meditation training.

He was sure he knew then that Jason was _his_ , in every sense of the word: his _mate_ , the one who completes his very existence. Last year, he parted with him in the most imbecilic manner and now he was uncertain whether his mate would welcome him back.

Jason was inconveniently older than Damian. He had grown into his gangly limbs and his face had turned rugged and scratchy with hair. Damian grew by half a foot this year and he knew Jason would still be a few more feet taller than he.  He hadn’t started to grow facial hair yet. It vexed him.

Mother went through great pains to procure a superior mind-shielding master for Damian. When he was at his father’s home, he was at the mercy of Jason’s incapable and severely inadequate tutor. It was inevitable that both Jason and Damian would fail at shielding one another from their innermost thoughts.

Damian woke up the night before his departure, the bed cold with his sweat and images of a body most supple (and not _his_ or _Jason’s_ ) echoing in the hollow corners of his mind. He threw the bed sheets off and padded lightly to Jason’s bedroom in the next wing. He thought twice about what he was doing when he reached his mate’s bedroom door, but in his stubbornness, he did not care about the consequences. He cracked the door open and was treated to a most arousing sight.

Jason’s body arched off the bed. His shorts were pulled all the way down to his ankles. His hand grasped his manhood. His body was covered in sweat, almost shining in the half light. His eyes were closed as he ran his fist up and down, his thighs straining and his hips thrusting in turn. He grunted with every push, and the bed squeaked obscenely beneath him. Damian could almost taste the desire off of him, feed off of his thoughts and wants.

_Dick. Yes._

Damian narrowed his eyes at his mate. _Richard Grayson_. That blasted _tutor_. Now the images in his head made sense. A caricature of the tutor, with his sinful mouth and behind. The way he flirted with _his_ mate.

Jason reached his peak. His pearly white release marked his body, landing on his hairy chest. He shook from exhaustion and pleasure. Damian felt the echoes of it in his own mind and he shivered. Despite the pleasure, he was not happy.

“Is that really who you’re dreaming about naked?” he said in clipped tones, his arms crossed over his chest. There was satisfaction in seeing his mate jump about a foot in the air. Jay grabbed at the bed sheets and pulled it over his body.

“Damian! What are you doing here? Your room’s in the east wing for Christ’s sake,” Jason asked, surreptitiously wiping his hand underneath the covers. How could he think Damian wouldn’t know?

“You drew me to you,” Damian said. He took one step closer.

“ _Don’t_ ,” Jason warned. His face grew so pale, it made Damian stop.

“You were projecting,” Damian explained.

Jason scrubbed his face with his clean hand as he groaned. “That doesn’t mean you get to come into my room and— _ah, shit_.”

“What’s wrong with it? You’re my mate,” Damian said in irritation. Jason glared at him.

“You don’t own me. You don’t get to decide for me. No one does,” Jason said through gritted teeth and Damian had never seen him so mad. His face was blotchy, high spots of red on his cheeks from anger and the earlier embarrassment.

“We’re mates,” Damian insisted.

“That means _squat_!” Jason snapped and Damian twitched, something close to fear wormed its way into his heart. “I’m still my own person! Just because we’re mates doesn’t give you the right to- to— _storm_ in my room and _watch_!”

Jason’s chest was heaving at the end of his reprimand and Damian was halfway distracted by his _nipples_ when a stray thought wanders through his mind.

_I trusted you._

Damian flinched. Jason had trusted him with his innermost thoughts. He knew the most about his mate, more than Bruce or Alfred can ever know, and tonight, he used their bond to his advantage and at Jason’s expense.

 _I’m sorry_ , Damian wanted to say but Jason said, “Please just… get out of my room.”

Damian obeyed. Their bond was suspiciously quiet the rest of the night, and Jason hadn’t been anywhere close by when he left for the airport.

It has been a year since the incident. Damian bounced his leg against his seat. The jet would be landing in an hour and he didn’t know if his mate would be there to meet with him.

 

***

 

Grayson deemed himself as Damian’s chaperone for the day. From what he gathered from the man’s babbles, Alfred was terribly sick and had been taken to the hospital.

“But it’s no big deal,” Grayson had said, “Alfie’d always bounced back from whatever anyway.”

There had been a tremor in his hands the whole time he was driving. Damian rolled his eyes and stared at the Gotham fog. When Grayson pulled up at a restaurant, he sighed and released his safety belts.

“You know, Bruce used to bring me over to diners when I had a bad day and I’d be right as rain after,” Grayson said. The whole establishment was in chaos. There were children running around and screeching. Food was getting thrown on the floor and the machines’ noises were almost unbearable.

“That’s because you’re simple,” Damian replied as he tugged his scarf tighter around his neck, almost turning around to get out of the establishment. He stilled when he processed Grayson’s words.

“What did you say?” He hissed at Grayson when the man casually stepped into a line to order.

“I was thinking I’d love to have a banana split sundae, but I can’t decide what flavor to get. I want strawberry-banana and fudge but the last time I tried to eat both, I nearly ended up in a hospital myself,” Grayson said. Damian growled at his obvious use of subtlety and bribery.

“You better pay for mine,” Damian said instead.

“Do you remember that time you and Jason busted the speakers of my walkman?” Grayson asked when they sat down with their orders. Damian remembers it vividly. It was one of his and Jason’s favorite memories.

(Grayson had been inspired to teach with _music_ that year, and Damian’s mind had been full of the same droning word sung repeatedly to his ears: _Shakira, shakira…_

Damian growled.

_You’ve had that song stuck in your head for days. It’s driving me nuts, too._

Damian shared a long suffering look with Jason over the breakfast table before going back to stabbing his food with a fork.

 _It’s all Grayson’s fault_ , Damian sent through their mental bond.

 _Yeah_ , Jason answered. He thought that was all Jason had to say till his mate follows with, _D’you have something in mind?_

Damian grinned. Timothy dropped his spoon at the look on Damian's face.

 _Yes_.)

“That's not why I’m eating my death with the labor of cows, Grayson. Explain. Who were you to Father?” Damian asked.

“Well. It’s a bit complicated and waaaay before your time,” Grayson dawdled. Damian stared him down, or he tried to.  Grayson motioned for him to eat a bite of strawberry-banana.

“There was a family of circus performers that came through Gotham once, many years ago,” Grayson started.

“I know who you were. Get to the point,” Damian said when he swallowed his spoonful of ice cream.

“Man, is it hard to talk to you... Ok,” Grayson said and he took a deep breath before letting his words out. “I was Bruce’s first kid.”

Damian stared at him for a couple of seconds before throwing a strawberry slice at him.

“You can’t be a Wayne heir! You’re- You’re— You’re an imbecile!” Damian shouted, running out of words to say.

“I’m not! Not anymore. Shhh! Don’t stand on your seat, everyone’s looking,” Grayson said. No one was paying attention anyway. Most of the adults worried more about their screaming kids than anybody else’s. Damian could hear his mother’s admonishing voice, something about doing things befitting an heir of al Ghul, and he sat down.

“I asked him to leave me out of it. It wasn’t the life for me. The work, the paparazzi, the _socializing_ ,” Grayson continued, his voice sounding especially pained at his last word. Damian took great pleasure at his suffering.

“Why wasn’t I informed of this earlier?” Damian asked while sending a withering glare at Grayson. The man wilted.

“I wasn’t ready. You’re a cool kid, but sometimes you seem… I didn’t know if you could understand,” Grayson answered lamely. Damian narrowed his eyes at him.

“Like I said, it was way before you were born. Bruce and I are closer in age than me and Jason,” Grayson said, picking at his ice cream. “I was his ward. We were more like brothers and acted like it. But the Gotham Gazette started calling it _indecent_ , and a lot of other words I don’t want to repeat, so don’t make me,” he added quickly before Damian could open his mouth.

“I’m happy where I am now. I love my job. I love teaching Krav Maga and Yoga at the community center. I’ve been really happy teaching you, too,” Grayson finished. Then he reached over and ruffled Damian’s hair. He retreated before Damian could gouge him with his spoon.

Damian decided he would let him live for a while longer.

 

***

 

Jason wasn’t there at the manor that year. It was the first time Damian had to live there without him.

A few years back, when his mother deemed him ready to spend time with his father and mate, Jason had gotten into a bad accident that left him laid up in bed for months. Damian moved his toys and books into his room. They spent time together like that, reading and playing, with Damian moving his toys at Jason’s behest.

Damian missed him like an aching tooth. Next year, he’ll scour all of Gotham for him.

 

***

 

On his sixteenth birthday, Damian begged his mother to let him move to Gotham. He lost his visiting privileges that year. However, he won his mother’s heart, and she let him go after his seventeenth birthday.

So when he arrived at the manor, unannounced, and found his mate in a lip lock with some redheaded dirt bag, he went into a (little) fit of rage that put his ten-year-old self to shame.

“He bit me! Twice!” Roy complained while Alfred cleaned his wounds, the undeserving dog. Damian growled at him. Jason grabbed his neck again and shook him like a puppy.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Harper. We had him vaccinated since he bit poor master Tim,” Alfred said.

“When was that?” Roy asked, looking a bit green at the gills.

“Seven years ago, I assume,” Alfred replied, giving Damian a sidelong glance.

“You assume correctly,” Damian answered. Jason made to stand up but Damian grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled.

“I heard someone got bit,” his father asked as he came down to the kitchen.

Jason shrugged Damian’s hand off him. “Yeah, you heard right. Devil spawn’s here.”

“Don’t call him that,” Bruce admonished as he moved to inspect Damian. He held Damian’s chin this way and that, _then_ peered inside his mouth to see if there was anything _Roy_ left in there. Damian wriggled out of his grasp and when he looked back, Jason and Roy were gone.

 

***

 

“Littlebird, you know you can’t stay here forever,” Roy said in his hair that night. Jason fiddled with the bandages covering Damian’s bites on Roy’s arm. Kori hogged the blankets again, sleeping in a cocoon behind him.

“It’s not forever,” Jason answered, looking up when Roy tugs at his hair.

“Time’s up, kiddo,” Roy said. Jason frowned at him and hid his face in the pillow.

“Give me two days. Just two days,” Jason mumbled into the pillows. Roy kissed his shoulder, the one he got a tattoo of a flying bird painted on.

“Destiny waits for no one. You’re ready,” Roy said. Jason grabbed the pillow under him and smacked Roy’s face with it.

“You got that from Disney,” he said viciously. Roy reached for Kori’s pillow and hit Jason in the face with it.

“You think you can take me on, Jay?” Roy asked, posed to attack Jason with the pillow.

“Both of you, off!” Kori yelled and she smacked them hard enough they both fell off the bed.

 

***

 

Jason drove his bike up to the manor doors. It has been a couple of years since he ran from Damian. The boy was infuriatingly clever and kept him on his toes whenever he visited. It had been a pain to hide how much older he was. He had a girlfriend when he was fifteen. Damian didn’t know about her. It wasn’t like the kid can do anything about it.

 _It wasn’t cheating_ , he thought to himself. He was exploring. He wanted to know if he could have a life outside the soul bond. He could. He studied and he volunteered. He made friends from nearly all walks of life. He even played licensed music with Roy and Kori. They were labeled as the Outlaws but Dickie liked calling them the Cheetahs.

He wanted to know if he could love anyone outside the soul bond. He could. It was the reason he got in an open relationship with Kori and Roy. The fact that he stayed was due to their compatibility and the couple’s acceptance of him.

It was a shock when Damian caught him on one of the rare times he masturbated to Dickie’s pretty ass. He hadn’t meant to, but he’d been almost celibate the whole month Damian stayed. He just wanted to let off some steam. Then the kid picked up on his brainwaves or something and decided to watch him. Damian had been fourteen while Jason was twenty-one.

“Oh, fuck it. Let’s get this over with,” Jason told himself as he dismounted. He held the helmet under his arm as he rang the doorbell. He could've used the old door knockers, but no one in any of the wings would hear him. The door opened

 _You’re late_ , Damian said through their bond. His irritation manifested as a twinge of pain behind Jason's eyes.

“If you’d rather I go,” Jason said, putting his helmet on.

Damian tugged the sleeve of his arm. “Stay, please.”

It was the most awkward afternoon they have ever had together. Jason didn’t need to peek through their bond to know that. They suffered through coffee and conversation that circled Damian’s latest interests: where he would go to school, what subjects he’s planning to major in college, how Titus was doing these days. Little things to ready them for the _big stuff_.

They got through their version of _the talk_ alright and sane, at least. Damian had grown over the couple of years Jason wasn’t there. He slowly inched his way to Bruce’s height and width. Jason also found it easier to talk to him about complex topics. He apologized about what he did to Roy. He also acquiesced to Jason’s demands, most of which Jason made with Damian’s safety in mind. Mostly, they both agreed to restore their friendship to how it was.

Jason didn't think they could, but he was willing to try.

 

***

 

The first thing they established was their boundaries. Jason had gotten really good at shielding his thoughts but he missed Damian’s warm presence in the back of his mind. It hadn’t taken them long to start sharing familiar _public_  spaces in their heads again. With that, he found it easier to rile Damian up.

_Knit, knit, purl… Knit, knit, purl… Knit, knit—_

“If you think _knit, knit, purl_ one more time, I’ll stab you with those needles,” Damian threatened. They were hanging out in the living room couch. Damian was reading and Jason was knitting. Some months ago, Jason’s youth group was fixing the roofs of some of the houses in the corner of Maine and Ruben. When they were done, the elderly ladies in one of the housing facilities invited them in for snacks and knitting. Needless to say, they got Jason _hooked_.

“No can do, Damian. I need these done for the ladies down the 22nd,” Jason replied. He turned on the fm radio. _Shakira, shakira!_

Damian screeched in anger, a sharp color of red in Jason’s mind before he stomped away to the kitchen. Jason laughed at him.

 

***

 

_Stupid people. Pots. Pans. Dead animals. Oh, fire._

“Quit it,” Jason said, taking a swig of his beer. “I love this tv show.”

They were hanging out in Jason’s apartment this time, the one he maintained with his earnings as youth adviser at Wayne Foundation. It was small and inadequate for Damian’s needs but, as he stood to inherit his father’s _and_ his mother’s companies, Damian could certainly provide them with a better home in the future. He dug his toes under Jason’s thighs as they lounged on the couch.

“All they do is fumble about the corpses of helpless creatures,” Damian complained. Jason was disgustingly fascinated with this cooking show where the actors yell obscenities at each other and cry while surrounded by substandard cuisine.

Jason sighed as he reached for the remote. “ _Food_ for most of us. Wanna watch the baking show instead?”

Damian snorted. “Not a great improvement, but it’ll do.”

He thought he heard the beginning of the opening for Dogs 101 before Jason changed the channel.

 

***

 

_...stick a fountain pen in his eye..._

_Less homicidal thoughts about your classmate right now, please. I’m in a meeting over here,_ Jason sent through their bond. He bolstered it with the memory of running his fingers through Alfred’s soft fur. Alfred the cat, not Alfred the human.

Damian had chosen to attend community college instead of university, the exact opposite of what Talia wanted for him. Jason thought he might be rebelling due to the shocking news of his mother’s late pregnancy. His little brother, Gabriel, would be born in a couple of months and would stand more than half the chance of inheriting al Ghul International. Jason felt Damian’s despair and frustration at being replaced and tried to comfort his mate as best he could.

Jason thought he could smell pumpkin spice with a hint of mint through the scent of stale tea they were offered at the meeting. He smiled.

 

***

 

Jason could feel his head pounding. He groaned and regretted the action immediately. Jason cracked his eyes open a little bit, wincing at the light pouring in from the windows of the apartment. There were some bottles of wine surrounding them, from where they passed out on the couch. Damian was dozing on his chest.

He thought, _it sounded better in my head._

 _Yes,_ Damian answered through their link, _it certainly did sound better in our heads._

 _Oh god, go back to sleep. You’re making it worse,_ Jason whined when Damian’s hangover amplified the aching hurt in his head.

Damian lifted his head high enough to glare at him. _We’re never doing that ever again._

 

***

 

Jason had been staring at the cupboard in the employee’s lounge for a couple of minutes now. He glared at the tea boxes on the shelf and scratched his head.

 _It’s coffee you’re craving. Go get some_ , Damian sent through their link. Jason frowned at himself. He thought he just wanted more black tea. _And bring me some. You made me want it, too._

 _Yes, your majesty,_ Jason grumbled through their bond as he made his way to the doors to retrieve his coat and keys. Damian must be in a meeting right now, with those investors Bruce had trouble signing into the company. Jason would bring him an iced latte for his cheek.

 

***

 

_…stupid traffic accident…_

_Thanks for the road rage thoughts. I’ll take the backroads home. See you in an hour,_ Jason cheerfully sent back as he wound his bike through the traffic, going north. He could almost hear Damian’s growl.

 

***

 

“Hey, Jay!” Dick said as he lightly pinched Jason’s side. “You’re packing a lot of chub there, huh?”

“Shut up. No one asked you, apple bottom,” Jason snarled back. He regretted using the Penthouse’s gym while the one next to his apartment was being renovated.

_It is a bit wide._

Jason stood up. He slowly turned around to face Damian. “Is that _really_ what you think about my ass?”

“Whoop! I’m outta here,” Dick said but Jason caught his collar before he could bail.

“It’s a simple observation,” Damian said, but Jason could feel him shutting down, the parts of his mind Damian usually occupied grew dark.

He glared at Damian. “You want to run that by me again?”

“It’s not a disadvantage,” Damian said, but now Jason was getting tail thoughts of shame from him, coupled with desire. Jason smirked.

“Please, you love my ass. You can say it,” Jason said as he let Dick go. Both of their faces were red and they refused to look at each other. Jason turned around to complete his stretches, unashamed of the smug thoughts he left rampant through his mind.

 

***

 

Tonight’s dinner was a bit special, Damian observed from the state of the restaurant and the servers. They had just sat down when Jason started to preoccupy his mind with thoughts of whether he locked the doors to their penthouse or not.

 _No, you didn’t forget to lock the door. You can quit fixating on it now_ , Damian sent through their bond. Jason looked at him with a pained expression and reached for his hand. Jay’s hand was clammy.

Damian straightened in his seat. _What are you hiding?_

 _Nothing,_ Jason grimaced at him and moved to take his hand away. Damian kept a tight grip on it. _Just give me five minutes. I swear, it's not anything bad._

 _No. What're you hiding that you needed to shield your thoughts from me,_ Damian demanded. He kept his eyes trained on Jason’s blue ones, and Jason held his gaze for a second before closing his eyes. Jason took in a deep breath, the muscles in his jaw twitching. When Jay opened his eyes again, his pupils were dilated, making his eyes look darker. The way Jason looked at Damian now made him swallow. It was the same yearning look Jay always gave him when he wanted to tell Damian how much he cherished him.

_Let’s get married. I love you._

It made Damian suck in a breath.

Jason rubbed his nose with the hand not currently in Damian’s grip. “I wanted to ask you after dinner, with wine and the ring—”

“My schedule’s tight this month, but we can settle for any date after,” Damian said immediately, in case Jason decided to change his mind, “Unless you wish to get married as soon as possible. In which case, I’m sure I can push any meeting I have over to Timothy.”

Jason’s eyes grew huge, and Damian can hear him panicking in the back of his mind. “Wait. We’re not getting married _right now_. It's—It’s an engagement, you know? Fiancé and all that.”

“You’ve been my fiancé ever since we’ve met. I don’t see the point of _not_ holding the ceremony sooner. We’ve certainly been married in all but name,” Damian reasoned. He could feel his hands shaking. Jason gulped, the movement of his throat catching Damian’s attention, before he cupped his hand over Damian’s.  

“So, uh… this is you saying yes, right?” Jason had the gall to ask. Damian put his hand atop his. He knew they must look like lunatics grasping at one another in such a manner but he didn’t care.

“Yes, Jason Peter Todd. I'll marry you, and you can make me an honest man,” he answered.

Jason let out a relieved sigh, the imbecile. “Ugh, thank god.”


End file.
